Instruction
by polgara-5
Summary: Instruction - the act or practice of instructing or teaching. Buffy Mag7 OW


**Title:** Instruction

**By:** Polgara

**Rating:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I own none of the recognizable characters. They belong to their respective creators and distributors.

**Distribution: **My site – Worlds of Possibilities, LJ, , and TtH.

**Spoilers:** All of Buffy is fair game. None really for Magnificent Seven.

**Setting:** Set in OW of Magnificent Seven.

**Summary:** Instruction - the act or practice of instructing or teaching.

**A/N:** Written as a prompt response for Meri.

Instruction 

From his position of leaning against the side of the building, he could hear familiar footsteps approaching. A glance at the shadow on the ground confirmed his suspicions. Without turning around, he said, "Afternoon, Buck."

His best friend stepped next to him and followed his gaze with his own. "How're the lessons goin'?" He asked, adjusting his hat. "They've been at this for a week."

Chris snorted softly. "Could've fooled me. I think she's a worse shot now than when she started."

"Now how can that be? Ez ain't that bad of a teacher, and she's got skills."

"That aren't for shootin' a gun," Chris reminded him. They had both seen how well she could handle herself in a fistfight. "It doesn't help that Ezra's going' about it all wrong."

"How do ya mean?"

"He's treating it like this should be second nature for her. Like she should just pick up the gun and shoot, and you know that ain't the way it works," Chris said in exasperation.

"Well maybe she just needs another teacher," Buck said with a grin.

Silently Chris agreed, but didn't know who else Buffy would accept help from. Her friendship with Ezra from the very beginning had been almost effortless, the rest she seemed to barely tolerate. Maybe it was because Ezra still treated her like a lady despite the fact that she insisted on wearing pants rather than the dresses that the rest of the women in town wore. Or maybe because he didn't try to change her, just let her be herself. Either way, she had gladly accepted Ezra's offer when she mentioned wanting to learn how to shoot.

Buck leaned in closer. "Perhaps she just needs someone who knows the steps to teach."

"Are you volunteering?" Chris dryly asked.

"Hell, no. That lady is waspier than Inez on a bad day. I think she needs someone just as stubborn as she is, _Stud_," Buck said with a laugh before walking away.

The blond just shook his head in amazement at his friend. How he could think Buffy would accept help from him was beyond him. They had done nothing but argue from the moment she stepped into the town. Yet he couldn't deny the heat that flared up between them, either. Arguing with Buffy was like nothing else.

He winced as Buffy took another awkward shot and missed the can by a good two feet. She was never going to learn if she kept this up. Deciding to take the chance, he pushed himself off the building and headed towards the pair.

Without saying a word, he removed Ezra's Remington from Buffy's small hands and returned it to its owner. In its place, he handed her his own Colt. If he was going to do this, it was going to be with his gun.

"Excuse me, Mr. Larabee," Ezra began, but Chris cut him off.

"Time to try something different," he said, not even looking at the gambler, his attention on the small woman.

"What if I don't want your help?" Buffy challenged, her jaw stubbornly set.

"Then you'll never learn, or worse, you're gonna shoot an innocent bystander," he growled.

He could see her thinking over his words in the silence that followed. She finally nodded her head. "Couldn't hurt."

As Chris stepped closer to her, he didn't see Ezra slowly back away with a satisfied grin on his face. Instead, he placed his hands on Buffy's shoulders and turned her until her back was flush with his front.

"I'm facing away from the target," she said dryly. "How is this supposed to help?"

"It gives your opponent less area to hit. Makes it harder for them, easier for you."

Buffy twisted slightly to look up at him. "Seriously?"

"Yes," he said, placing his left hand on her hip and pulling her closer. He could feel the heat from her body seeping through his own clothes and into his skin, and he had to resist the urge to pull her closer still.

"I get the less area to hit thing, but how is it going to be easier for me?" She asked.

"It's how you line up your shot. You're going to look down your shoulder and follow it to the end of the gun." His right hand lifted the arm that was holding his gun. "The gun becomes an extension of yourself, not just a weapon."

She leaned her head back against his chest. "I think you're making this up. Ezra never said any – "

"Which is why you aren't learning," Chris said impatiently, blowing out a puff of air between his lips. "Trust me on this."

Buffy dropped her arm and blinked up at him. "I do."

Chris felt his heart catch at the simple declaration. Perhaps he had been misjudging this whole thing from the start. He cleared his throat and said, "Yes, well stop arguing about it then."

She grinned. "I'm not arguing, just giving you a hard time."

He winced at her choice of words and shifted his stance slightly to ease up the tightness in his pants. Instead of following that line of conversation, mostly for his sanity, he returned to the lesson. He brought her arm back up. "Once you've lined up the shot, pull the hammer back, take a breath, let it out, and then squeeze the trigger."

Buffy nodded and stilled as she lined up the shot, with his right hand just under hers. Using her thumb she cocked the gun and took the directed breath. A loud crack issued from the gun as it fired and the bullet hit just below the can she was aiming for.

"Whoo hoo!" She cried.

"Again, without me helping this time," he said, only he didn't step away.

She repeated the process; only this time she hit the can dead on. A smile brighter than the sun blossomed on her face as she turned in his arms and hugged him tightly. "Thank you!" She squealed before pressing her lips to his.

Chris was sure that it had been nothing more than an impulsive act and that it wasn't meant to last more than a second, but his traitorous body had other ideas. His arms slipped around her tiny waist and held her close. He followed her as she broke the kiss until he had reinitiated it.

Her lips parted beneath him and he lost himself in the feel and taste of her. She was as sweet as honey only there was a fire underneath it all. A fire that raced through his own veins and left him wanting more.

Buffy broke the kiss and he was pleased to see was just as affected by it as he was. Her lids were heavy with desire and he chastised himself for doing this in a fairly public space. He took a step back from her to distance himself and gain a bit of control.

She let out a sound of protest and stepped closer, causing him to take a step back. "It's not proper to continue in public." He inwardly rolled his eyes. When the hell had Ez rubbed off on him?

"Then let's go somewhere else," she said, her voice husky and it pulled at him.

"You need to finish practicing," he said, grasping for control.

One graceful eyebrow arched as she smirked at him. "Is that all that's holding you back?" She twisted and in one smooth motion brought his gun to bear. Four shots rang out in rapid succession and four cans flew off of the fence.

Buffy looked back up at him. "Can we go now?" She asked, handing him his gun.

Chris got the distinct impression that he had just been had, but if he got Buffy as a reward, he found it hard to get angry.

_finis_


End file.
